


All Before Me Is Shadow

by kaleidoscopes



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dark fic, Gen, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 19:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5346008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleidoscopes/pseuds/kaleidoscopes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen Rutherford is the last remaining member of the Inquisition after the Inquisitor and company die at Redcliffe Castle and he is ready to make his last stand against the enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Before Me Is Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> A look at what Cullen went through during the year that never was during In Hushed Whispers.

The Inquisitor was dead. The proclamation had come from Corypheus himself, as he proclaimed himself their new god. The Age of Darkness had dawned. Any opposition was declared heretical, and would be destroyed. So the Inquisition went underground to plan their next move. With the Inquisitor gone, rifts spread unchecked, and the Breach swelled and swallowed the sky, painting the world an eerie green. Armies of demons marched across the land. The Empress of Orlais and the King of Ferelden were dead as well, their lands in chaos, ripe for the picking.

Cullen Rutherford, the Commander of what was left of the Inquisition’s forces, and sole remaining founder sat huddled up in his small cot in the house they were using as a barracks. No word from Leliana had come. _So she too has failed_ , he thought to himself. _Moira-the Inquisitor, Cassandra, Solas, the mage from Tevinter, and now Leliana too. All gone._ Still, Cullen fought on, planning and mounting assaults on Corypheus’ stronghold at Redcliffe Castle. His friends, and most of his men, were dead. And yet he remained. He had perhaps enough men for one final push, and they were to march at dawn. He didn’t expect to live through the day.

 _Maker, forgive me. Give me strength_ , he thought as he held the small bottle of blue liquid. Uncorking it and draining the contents, he immediately felt its effects. The rush of strength and power, the renewed focus. But still the pain still remained, as it always did. He got up to go to the war room one last time to go over his preparations. The halls were quiet, as they usually were now. As Cullen stood at the map, his mind went fuzzy, and images of the past came to haunt him, as they often did. Memories of the war room in Haven, before Haven was destroyed, and most of the Inquisition with it. He saw all of his friends standing around the great map, plotting how best to save the world. Cassandra with her strength and determination. Leliana and her friendly teasing. Moira with her easy laughter and light quips. He missed the sound of her laughter and the light of her smile. They were so idealistic, so hopeful. And now they were dead.

Cullen wondered what the world would be like if the Inquisitor hadn’t died. Would she have closed the Breach? Defeated Corypheus? Would he have worked up the courage to ask her for a drink one day? But these thoughts were useless to him now. He had no hope of winning the coming battle, the only question left was how many demons, darkspawn, and corrupted templars he could take down before he fell. They would not take him without a fight. He would turn his grief into rage, into strength. He left the war room for the small chantry. Kneeling down before the stone statue of Andraste, he began to pray. _Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder_. He murmured in the dim candle light his favorite verses of the Chant, and the ones that gave him the most strength. _Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker’s light. And nothing He has wrought shall be lost._ He could see the lightening sky from the window. It was time to march.

At the head of what remained of his army, Cullen squinted in the pale green sunlight. _So it would be a high noon showdown, like something out of one of Varric’s books._ He could see his onetime friend, Samson, at the head of Corypheus’ army, imposing in his red lyrium armor. He had hoped that he would meet the man he had once called friend on the battlefield. Uncorking another bottle of lyrium, he drank it down. To think he had thought to quit the stuff at one point; he needed every advantage he could get now. Raising his sword and yelling out to his men, urging them to have courage and to fight hard, fight to the death, he reared up his horse to charge into battle one last time. _Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter._ Another behemoth fell to his blade as he murmured the Chant. _Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just._ He could see Samson charging towards him now. _Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow._ With a blood curdling shriek, the archdemon took the field. _In their blood the Maker’s will is written._ His horse was cut out from under him. Landing on his side, he rolled to narrowly avoid the strike of Samson’s wicked red blade. With a roar he rose to his feet, parrying and trading blows with Samson. He watched as his men fell beside him. He slammed his sword into the node of pure red lyrium on Samson’s armor and they were both knocked backwards from the explosion. Regaining his footing, he charged at the man who had once been his friend, a lifetime ago. Seeing an opening in the armor, he drove his sword in, realizing too late that he had left himself open to attack as well. With a cry, Cullen fell to his knees. Blood pooling out around him, Cullen watched as his men fell around him. _We will all be together once more at the Maker’s side,_ he thought to himself as his vision dimmed. _I will see you soon, my friends, my family._


End file.
